Panic Movement - carleton97

He
wishes he hadn't thrown out the phone number the waitress from lunch
had slipped into his pocket, but he was getting a little tired of
kinked out girls wanting to see his badge and touch his gun.

He
wishes he could say this was a new thing, that it was some weird
reaction to half the station catching his girlfriend banging the new
guy, but he's been having the dreams for months.

He wishes he
were drunk or doped up on pain killers or feverish or *anything* that
would give him an excuse for kneeling on the worn tiles of his best
friend's bathroom and jerking off.

He wishes there was some
porn in here or that they'd been watching Skinemax earlier because the
way he has his face pressed into Chris's robe probably makes him seem
like a big pervert.

Which he isn't.

Really.

He just likes the way Chris smells.

"Hey,
Danny, are you - " The door swings open when Chris knocks and Danny
*really* wishes he'd remembered that the bathroom door doesn't latch
unless you close it just right.

Danny knows he's got to look
ridiculous with his pants around his thighs, his dick in his hand, and
his face buried in Chris's robe, but he comes all over his hand and the
wall anyway.

And Chris just stands there.

Looking at him.

And
Danny actively wishes he could die. Heart attack, stroke, freaking
lightning bolt, *anything* to end the utter humiliation of this moment.
He knows he should say something or pull up his pants or lift his face
out of this goddamn robe, but there really isn't anything he could say
to talk himself out of this one so he just stays where he is, waiting
for...something. For Chris to leave so he can clean up before slinking
back to his apartment and perhaps the mainland. Or maybe for Chris to
snap out of whatever is keeping him in the room and begin to beat him
to death with a shampoo bottle.

There's the sound of Chris's jeans as he moves, then the sound of the door closing.

Shit. shitshitshitshitshit.

Danny
knows Chris thinks he's a loose cannon sometimes - that he acts without
thinking - but he's never really believed it. He's always been totally
conscious of what he's saying or doing, no matter how fucked up.

Until now.

He's
vaguely aware that his pants are still hanging around his hips as he
scrambles to his feet and fumbles with the doorknob with his left hand.
He's yelling before the door is even open, "Chris!"

And Chris
must have been leaning against the door because he stumbles backwards
when Danny yanks the door open and only stays on his feet thanks to an
impressive twisting grab of the counter edge. He wrenches himself
upright about a foot from Danny and from that close, the smell of him -

Crap. That's what got him in this situation to begin with.

So Danny does what he always does when shit's hit the fan and someone's about to start shooting at him. He starts talking.

"This
isn't what it looks like." He starts to gesture around the bathroom
before he remembers what's all over his hand. He grimaces a little at
the mess and wipes it off on Chris's robe. "Ok. Yes. It's what it looks
like, but not like that."

"Don't! Just - Look, I was just - And it was - It wasn't - Why haven't you fixed your damn door?"

More leaning away. Shit. "What? Danny - "

Oh,
god. This must be what Chris is talking about. It's like Danny can feel
himself getting ready to say something guaranteed to fuck things up.
"Don't act like you've never jerked off either, Chris. I know exactly
how much sex you're *not* getting."

Chris
is getting mad now; Danny can see his shoulders tightening up under
frayed edge of his wife-beater, but he can't stop smirking. "Truth
hurts, doesn't it?"

It's almost a relief when Chris gets in his face because if he's getting hit, maybe he can keep his fucking mouth -

Oh.

Mouth.

Chris' mouth.

On his.

Chris is kissing him. *Chris* is *kissing* him.

Holy shit.

Danny
can honestly say he's never looked at another guy and he would have put
money on Chris being just as straight, but he thinks he might have lost
that bet because the noise Chris makes when Danny automatically kisses
him back speaks to a level of comfort with the whole kissing another
guy thing that Danny just doesn't have. There's a tiny, frantic voice in his
head doing its best to propel him into a loud and embarrassing freak
out, but Chris yanking him out of the bathroom by the collar of his
t-shirt and pushing him up against the wall knocks him out of his
passivity and into the moment.

The moment where his partner
just happens to be shoving his hands down the back of his still
unfastened pants and groping his ass. Danny eases his grip on Chris's
shoulders and slides his hands down the firm muscle of his chest.

And shoves him towards the opposite wall.

The
surprised little grunt Chris makes when his back hits the wall under
the full weight of Danny's body makes it easy for Danny to lick his way
into Chris's mouth and take control of the kiss.

Kissing Chris
is...different. There's the facial hair, of course, but Chris is nearly
as tall as he is and it's nice not to be bent in half with a crick in
his neck. Chris is more aggressive than most women, too, pushing back
against Danny until he's forced to give as much as he takes.

Chris
pulls one hand out of the back of Danny's pants and pushes it up the
back of his shirt, tugging at the fabric until Danny takes the hint and
pulls it off and tosses it down the hallway. Chris licks a path down
his neck and loops an arm around his neck to pull him along when he
starts to slide towards his bedroom.

Danny stumbles a little,
the combination of his pants finally slipping down to his knees and
Chris's teeth digging into the muscle of his shoulder just too much for
him. He tangles his fingers in Chris's hair and pulls his head away
from what promises to be a massive bite mark on his shoulder to kiss
him again.

It is teeth and tongues and lips and goodgoodgood
and Danny doesn't even bother to stifle his groan when he trips on his
pants again and sends them careening into the doorframe. Chris's body
is all hard muscle and bone against his, a solid mass moving restlessly
under him. He grinds a hard circle with his hips just to feel Chris
shudder and drop his head back against the sharp corner of the doorway.
Danny bites the corner of his jaw and sucks a string of wet kisses down
the line of his throat, letting Chris guide the rhythm of his hips with
the hand still on his ass.

Chris moans when Danny hits an
especially good spot on his neck and the sound seems to burn new
pathways through Danny's nervous system. He sucks harder, but shuffles
back towards the low bed when Chris nudges him with his hips. His
calves hit the edge of the mattress and Chris pulls his mouth away from
his neck and pushes him down on the bed.

His pants are dragged
down to his ankles as he pulls himself farther up the bed, but then
Chris is crawling towards him, straddling one of his thighs and all
thoughts of kicking out of the hobbling denim disappear under a barrage
of wantwantwantyes when Chris kisses him again.

Chris's hands
settle on either side of his face, holding him still as Chris kneels up
and forces his head back. He slides his own hands up the back of
Chris's shirt, stretching out the thin material as he pulls the other
man closer. Chris shuffles forward on the bed until Danny can feel the
heat of his erection against his stomach. Danny breaks the kiss and
wraps his arms around his hips to bring Chris closer, biting at his
chest through his shirt.

Chris presses hard against him once,
then twice more in quick succession before using his grip on Danny's
shoulders to push away a little and sit back. Danny grabs a handful of
his shirt and pulls him back in, yanking at the already misshapen
collar until he can rub a tight circle over a nipple with his tongue.
Chris arches back, pushing up into Danny's mouth and using one hand on
the back of his neck to keep his balance as the other tries to undo the
seemingly complicated button and zipper of his jeans.

Danny
can feel Chris struggling with his pants and worms a hand between their
bodies. Chris's fingers still momentarily when they brush his, but
scramble back into motion when he slides his hand behind the button of
his jeans, rubbing gently over the crinkly hair under the back of his
fingers. Chris pulls the button free and Danny feels the zipper opening
as the old denim eases open. He lets his fingers follow the zipper's
descent, grazing his knuckles over hard flesh and damp cotton.

Chris
bucks against his hand and Danny rubs a little harder, liking the
hummed moan he can feel vibrate all throughout Chris's body. Danny
twists his hand around, trying get a grip on Chris's cock, but the
angle is all wrong and he only ends up scraping his wrist on the
zipper. He tries to go back to the rubbing, but Chris grabs his wrist
in a strong grip and slowly pulls his hand out of his pants.

Danny
tries to twist free, but Chris just tightens his grip and moves his
other hand to the waistband of his pants and starts to push them over
his hips. It's awkward one-handed, but Chris doesn't let go of Danny's
hand so Danny relaxes his grip on Chris's bicep and slides his free
hand down to help.

Danny's never really been up close and
personal with someone else's hard-on and he finds himself fascinated by
Chris's. He's not circumcised for one thing and he's, damn, not *that*
much bigger than Danny is.

Really.

He stops helping
once Chris's pants and boxers are around his thighs and reaches for
him. Lightning quick, Chris captures that wrist too and pulls his arms
over his head. He leans forward, pressing Danny's wrists down into the
bed and settling himself over him.

Chris is *heavy* in a way
Danny isn't used to, but understands. Just like he understands the
first heavy thrust that pushes Chris's cock against his. Just like he
understands the rough pressure of Chris's mouth on his and the
aggressive sweep of tongue into his mouth.

Danny moves in
rhythm with Chris, trying to gain enough purchase for his feet on the
smooth sheets to thrust back. He finally kicks free of his jeans and
digs his heels into the mattress for leverage. Chris does a little
shimmy with his hips surprises a moan out of Danny when he slides
between his bent knees. Danny twists his arms loose of Chris's hold and
grabs his ass, moving him up and to the left just enough -

There.

It's
impossible. Danny knows he *just* came. He shouldn't even be hard
again, let alone this close to coming, but all it takes is Chris moving
just. Like. That. And -

Everything is bright, clenching
pleasure as he snaps his hips hard against Chris's, hands digging into
the muscles of his ass and come smearing between them.

Danny
relaxes his grip, still moving lazily against Chris, and lets his hands
trace over the curve of Chris's ass and up the muscles of his back.
Chris shudders at the touch and drags his mouth down Danny's neck as he
begins thrusting raggedly. Chris is panting against his neck, almost
whimpering, and his fingers are squeezing Danny's shoulders almost
painfully. Danny wraps his arms around him - one hand griping his
waist, the other tucked between his neck and shoulder - and holds him
as he comes in jerky pulses that seem to leave him boneless.

They
stay like this for a long time, breathing together. Long enough for
Danny to drift towards sleep, well past exhausted after coming twice.
Chris is heavy, yes, and they are both in desperate need of a shower,
but he is...comfy.